Going on an egg hunt, gonna catch a big one

Friday night Family Night:  We dyed our eggs.   Complete with cool little “egg-tats” that, regardless of how much or how little pressure I used, cracked every single damn egg.  I’ll be skipping those next year.

Saturday, all day:  Nene skipped around the house shouting at random intervals, “Do you know why I like Easter so much?   BECAUSE THE EASTER BUNNY IS COMING!!!!”  I tried to keep them up late, with the objectives of a) trying to catch the Easter Bunny in the act, and when that inevitably yielded nothing, b) sleeping in, so the Easter Bunny could have more time, because obviously he or she was running behind.

Sunday – aka today:  I woke up at 6:30, thinking I would have plenty of time, since the kids didn’t go to bed until 11.  I tiptoed down the stairs, and managed to hide most of the plastic eggs, with a dozen hard-boiled ones still to go.  I was in the laundry room – as far away from the children as possible, without leaving the warm, toasty indoors, when suddenly, my bleary-eyed son spotted me carrying the egg baskets around.

Quickly, I ducked around the corner, stuffed the remaining 8 eggs in my hoodie pocket, congratulated myself for thinking to put on a hoodie with pockets to stuff, and handed him his basket.  “I have no idea what these were doing in the laundry room,” I blustered.  “It’s so strange.  Here you go!”  I passed off the basket and veritably dashed off to hide the remaining eggs.

Here entered my savior, my own personal Easter Bunny: Amy.   She’d already bailed me out once, buying and stuffing the plastic eggs after work at 4:30 am, after I had neglected to be so prepared myself.  And now, she sauntered down the stairs, silently held out her hands and set to work hiding the eggs.  One of us would distract Danny, while the other hid eggs.  And then when both kids were up (because when one is up, it’s not long til the other follows), we redoubled our efforts.

And then, this heroic partner of mine went upstairs to go to bed, resurfacing one time, 20 minutes later, to sneak a peek at the fun and whisper anxiously to me, “Make sure they find all the hard-boiled eggs!”

Of course, dear.  Though, if they don’t, the dog will….

They searched pretty hard, those kiddos.  And in spite of the fact that Danny nearly caught me in the laundry room, it was the very last place the kids thought to look for eggs.  Even though there was one “hidden” in plain sight – even magnified by that trippy kitchen window.  It took them forever and a LOT of clues from Mama to see that one.

My daughter looks a little spooky here. What's she gonna do with that egg?

In all, it was a big success.  Though they won’t touch the hard-boiled eggs.  (YES!  Egg salad for me!)  And the dog looked like he was up to something.  Indeed, as soon as I let him outside for his morning potty, he found a bunny rabbit to chase and bark at.  Fitting.

I am curious, though.  How do people do it?  How do people successfully hide eggs without getting caught?  I narrowly missed getting busted last year, too.  I can’t hide them at night, as we do hard-boiled, and the animals will eat them.  And it seems like no matter how early I get up, no matter how quiet I am, the kids have a sixth sense – a little silent alarm that goes off.  “Alert, alert, your mother is awake.  Alert, alert, it’s time to get up!”

I don’t think I’ll be able to pull this off so closely much longer!

A Slightly Different Easter Story

I originally wrote and shared this a year ago.  My kids were asking for an Easter story tonight, one that I made up, and I remembered this one.  I re-told it, just as it was, and their sweet smiles reminded, yet again, how much I cherish tradition.

Tomorrow, I will be up early, playing Easter Bunny.  I’ve heard so many parents lately talking about the gifts their children are expecting, and I’m baffled.  Danny is excited for the egg hunt, and Nene doesn’t care about anything other than the Easter Bunny leaving some kind of evidence of a visit – not just the eggs, mind you, but a little token of magic.  That’s what I remember loving most about Easter as a child, too.  Not the gifts, but the magic and the anticipation.

Anyway, without further blibberty-blabber, the original post:

A long time ago, the Old Ones told stories to explain the mysteries of life.  Over the years (many, many years) those stories have been lost or hidden, like a secret code, in new stories and traditions.  Some of the traditions we follow now seem to have no relevancy to the stories that are told alongside them.  Easter for instance – what does a colored egg in a basket of candy have to do with the story of Jesus Christ ascending into Heaven?

The story of Christ’s death and resurrection is a gruesome one, and for that reason, very compelling.  I couldn’t help but notice my son’s fascination with the tale – particularly the parts where Jesus was humiliated, tormented, made to feel so alone among so many.  For him, Jesus being hung up on the cross was the end of the story.  His disgust with Christ’s tormentors and compassion for Christ were palpable.  The idea that someone who traveled around telling people living under the thumb of various forms of oppression that nothing else mattered as long as they lived mindfully and full of love, who developed a following because of his hopeful and positive message, could be killed brutally and still touch people thousands of years after his death resonated more than the idea that he, as D put it, “Became a god” and rose into Heaven.

In telling this story – as well as my own Easter story, loosely based on the stories of the Old Ones’, I realized something – in these days, when we are surrounded by so much fear, dirt, anger, and hurt, children need even more to hear a positive, hopeful message.  They don’t need fluff, mindless “Don’t worry, be happy,” messages – they need to know that, even when it seems like Winter stretches on forever, Spring does come.

My daughter identified more with my other Easter story, one I will share here.  Our messages can be sent in as many different ways as there are words.  What does Easter mean to you and your family?

A long time ago, the Old Ones waited for the Oak King to grow strong, and the Baby Sun to make the days warm and long.  Winter’s grip was strong and firm, and though the Holly King was loosening his grip one by one as he relinquished his throne to the Oak King, the nights were still cold, the days were still cloudy.  The Old Ones were impatient – they were ready to turn their soil and plant their seeds, they were ready for Spring.

The Goddess Ostara heard the frustration of the people.  She knew the Oak King was still too young to bring the Earth to life once again as quickly as the people cried out for.  But she felt their anguish, and knew, too, it had been a long and hard Winter; many had died, some had fallen ill and weak.  And while this is the way things must go in our world, it is hard on the people who live in it.

She came down to offer a message of hope for the people, to give them a little inner strength and inspiration to tide them over until the Oak King was strong enough to reign in his throne.  She called the bunnies out from their holes and told them, “Go, and tell the people Spring has come.”  She called the birds from their winter homes and said, “Lay your eggs, that people may see and have hope for new life.”  She called the trees and commanded, “Bud your leaves on your strong limbs, that people may see, and find strength in themselves.”  She whispered to the grass, “Grow and be green, that people may walk and see color everywhere they go.”

Ostara never showed herself to the people directly.  She was gone as quickly as she came.  And in her wake, she left a beautiful mess of bunnies and eggs, and the green grass seemed to make the sky a little more blue.  And when the flowers saw the trees bud their leaves, they, too took strength and began to show their colors.

And what do you think happened to the people’s despair?  It’s awfully hard to feel sad and bleak when the Earth is waking up from a long Winter sleep.  Sure enough, though they never saw the Goddess, they heard her message loud and clear – they began to work the soil and tend to the animals, caring for the Earth that had provided them with so much.  And every year, they celebrated the end of Winter the same way – by honoring Ostara’s message to them with celebration, respect for all living things, appreciation for what they had been given and for life itself. 

But over the years, it’s easy to forget the memories that were made so long ago, by people who no longer walk this Earth.  So Ostara still makes sure to send her bunnies out with the message, “Spring is here!” while her birds lay their eggs, to call the trees to bud their leaves and the grass to grow green.

And every year, we see the bunnies come out of their burrows, we see the birds build their nests and lay their eggs, and we know – Winter’s cold is gone, and like the Earth, we, too, must wake and celebrate. 

Life is for the living!

Happy Easter/Eostara to all 🙂